


Something Tells Me Together We'd Be Happy

by thereweregiants



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Blackwatch Era, M/M, One-Sided Attraction, god help me, warning for dadGabe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-02
Updated: 2020-04-02
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:13:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23437495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thereweregiants/pseuds/thereweregiants
Summary: Gabriel wants to be a father figure to his newest recruit.Jesse - has other ideas.
Relationships: Jesse McCree & Reaper | Gabriel Reyes, Jesse McCree/Reaper | Gabriel Reyes
Comments: 19
Kudos: 58
Collections: Dead Dove Events





	Something Tells Me Together We'd Be Happy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [passeridae](https://archiveofourown.org/users/passeridae/gifts).



> our server did a cute little event where we wrote cursed fics for each other, with prompts that people proposed and hoped would never, ever happen.  
> I got to write perhaps my single least favorite thing in the world: dad!Gabriel  
> believe me in that it was as unpleasant to write as it is to read
> 
> title from [George Michael's Father Figure](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=m_9hfHvQSNo) because I have zero fucking shame

“You could’ve just killed me, saved us all a mess of trouble,” the young man says, practically spitting the words into Gabriel’s face. 

Gabriel looks at him, past the grease and gunpowder and tattoos and sees...potential. Potential to be a good person, to do good deeds. Perhaps even, somewhere down the line, to be something - something more. 

More to Blackwatch, more to Gabriel.

He leans forward, puts a hand out to lay on the table near where the young man is cuffed toit. Gabriel wants to put a hand on the arm where he can see strong lines of dark ink carved into tan skin, but - they’re not there yet.

“I have a proposal,” he says. The young man - Jesse, he’d snarled into the face of the agent that had cuffed him - looks at Gabriel’s hand with narrowed eyes, then up at Gabriel’s face. He shifts in his seat, all lean muscle and tendon wrapped around youthful bone. Wide lips stretch into a slow, crooked smile that speaks of a disturbing amount of experience for how old he is.

“Do tell,” he says, and it’s more purr than anything else.

“You could join us,” Gabriel says seriously. “Train up properly, join us in Blackwatch.”

“Or.”

“Or prison,” Gabriel says with a shrug. He leans forward once more. “I really think you could make something of yourself, that you could really be someone, Jesse.”

Jesse gives Gabriel a long look, eyes moving from his scarred face down to his chest covered in body armor and back up again. “Well with choices like that, how could I possibly refuse?”

-x-x-x-x-x-

Gabriel keeps tabs on Jesse throughout the first few years as the Overwatch training program civilizes him. He does well in some areas, less so in others, is terrifyingly good at anything involving a weapon. 

When he’s twenty, Gabriel calls him in for a meeting. They haven’t really spoken face to face in the years since that first meeting. Jesse’s filled out, youthful leanness giving way to thick muscles that will likely only build as he gets older. He’s as tall as Gabriel now, he notices as he gets up to shake Jesse’s hand, and his shoulders nearly as broad.

He gives Jesse the final proposal: Blackwatch, Overwatch, or back to prison. Jesse sits back in his chair, thighs spreading wide as he crosses one ankle over his knee. 

“If I join Blackwatch, what all would be involved in that?” he asks Gabriel, calculating look in his eyes.

“Well, you’d be on my strike team, for starters.” Jesse’s smile sharpens, and Gabriel is glad that he seems so interested. “We’ll put you through your paces - our training is a little different than Overwatch. More hands on.”

“Hands on with you?” Jesse says, his full, pink lips pouted out into a smirk. Gabriel nods. It’s nice how invested Jesse already seems. 

“It’s my team, so yeah. Harder work, but the more risk, the more reward. You interested?”

Jesse shakes the proffered hand. “I’m always up for reward,” he says, his smile never faltering. Gabriel notices the thickness of Jesse’s fingers wrapped around his own, the strength of his grip. The heat of his hand as he pulls it away from Gabriel’s slowly, more of a caress than anything else. Poor boy must be desperate for contact, he thinks.

He walks Jesse to the door, guiding him with a parental hand on his back. “Training room B, 0800 tomorrow. We’ll see how you do.”

Jesse turns, taking a step closer to Gabriel as he does so. His eyes are bright and clear, an almost pretty amber color in the golden light streaming in from Gabriel’s window. “Sounds like fun,” he says. 

Gabriel’s just happy he doesn’t have to do the paperwork for the jail.

Ana stops by his office door as Jesse walks away, watching him saunter down the hall. “You sure about this?” she asks. “With...how he is? How he acts towards you?”

“He’ll be fine. Just has to shape up a bit,” Gabriel says with a shrug.

Ana eyes him, skepticism clear on her face. “Not quite what I meant,” she murmurs, but lets the subject go.

-x-x-x-x-x-

Gabriel is wrapping his hands when Jesse shows up the next day. 

“Anyone else comin’?” he asks as he saunters in.

“Nope,” is the reply. If Jesse thinks that he would have an easier time if other people were there, well, so much for that.

Gabriel had been somewhat worried about how seriously Jesse would take this, but he seems dedicated as they work their way through various exercises with increasing speed and intensity. Even Gabriel is breathing a little hard by the time Jesse takes off his shirt, having soaked through it with exertion. 

Sweat gleams off the myriad of shitty stick and poke tattoos that Jesse has covering himself - Gabriel squints but decides he just doesn’t want to know what the blurred tramp stamp says - but when Jesse turns around it’s the broadness of his muscled chest and the thick line of hair leading down into his pants that surprises Gabriel. He keeps thinking of Jesse as a kid, but he’s clearly, clearly not.

It’s this surprise combined with sweat-slick skin that makes Gabriel fumble the next takedown. He still gets Jesse onto the mat, but it’s an unstable hold - just laying on top of him, with Jesse’s arms pinned down. There’s bare inches between their faces, the air humid as they both pant for breath.

Jesse stares up at Gabriel for a long moment before getting a look of determination on his face. He hooks his leg around Gabriel’s thigh, and rolls his hips up in a sensual movement that has him dragging his groin against Gabriel’s.

Gabriel rolls his eyes and uses Jesse’s free leg to brace himself as he flips them. He doesn’t know what the kid is thinking, that move wouldn’t help him pin Gabriel a damn bit. Jesse’s now on his stomach, Gabriel pressed flat to his back. He twists Jesse’s arm behind him, the movement unfortunately making Gabriel push down against Jesse’s ass as his back arches. He figures the kid will understand - there’s a certain amount of physicality they have to get used to, after all.

“Now I’m not sure what kind of shit move you were trying to pull, but you see how easily I got out of it?” He gets up off of Jesse, cracking his neck as he goes. “Get up, let’s run that again.”

Jesse keeps laying there on his stomach. He turns and looks up at Gabriel, pained look on his face as he shifts his hips slightly. “I’m just gonna...stay here for a sec.”

“You hurt?” Gabriel didn’t think he’d flipped him hard enough to injure him, but sometimes he doesn’t always know his SEP-enhanced strength.

“Yeah, uh, no. Just. A little sore, need a minute.”

Gabriel shrugs. As long as the kid can keep training, he doesn’t particularly care.

-x-x-x-x-x-

The years go on, soaked in gun oil and blood. 

Jesse becomes a valued member of Gabriel’s strike team. Gabriel can tell that everyone is surprised at Jesse’s success, but he knew he would do fine. 

Sometimes Jesse is confusing, doing or saying things that Gabriel just doesn’t understand, that go over his head. Everyone else seems to get it, turning red and looking away when Gabriel asks them to clarify. He doesn’t really care, in the end: Jesse is doing his job and that’s what matters.

He just wishes that Jesse and he were closer, though.

Jesse respects him as a leader, as a Blackwatch commander. He knows that. Gabriel just wants something...more, though. Perhaps it’s some displaced emotions from his divorce all those years ago, the family that the job made him leave behind. Maybe it’s the age difference, just a bit too much to let them be on equal footing here. He just - he feels so paternal towards Jesse, but somehow through their years of working together it just never quite gets there.

He talks it over with Ana, over dinner during one of the few times their free evenings line up. 

“I just don’t get it,” he says moodily as he pushes a bite of steak around on his plate. “I keep trying to connect with him but it’s like there’s something...something preventing it.”

Ana spears a green bean deliberately. “Have you thought about how this might not be...quite the right relationship between you two?”

Gabriel frowns at her. “What do you mean?”

She sighs, tucks a curl of hair behind her ear. “You can’t force a parental relationship when there just isn’t enough evidence for it,” she says, staring out into the restaurant like she’s addressing the world at large. “It doesn’t sound like that’s what Jesse wants, so perhaps you should let it go.”

Rolling his eyes, Gabriel downs the last of his drink. Ana is obviously just missing her daughter and projecting onto him, she doesn’t know what she’s talking about here.

-x-x-x-x-x-

Gabriel finally puts it out in the open after an op in Cambodia.

It was bad, omnics with little care for human life taking down building after building, leaving Blackwatch torn between going after the enemy or trying to save the people caught in the crossfire. 

Genji and Gabriel had gone after the omnics, leaving Jesse to haul people out and Moira to fix them up as best she can. When they get back to the building, local support has come and taken over, loading bodies and patients into ambulances as fast as they can.

Jesse is leaning up against a half-broken wall, covered in dust and debris. He takes his hat off, smacking it against his leg to get rid of some of the worst of it. With the hat gone Gabriel can see a cut along his cheek, following the line of a sharp cheekbone. He seems okay other than that, apart from the exhaustion of trying to save everyone. The cut opens a bit wider as Jesse scratches at his beard, blood welling up slowly.

“You’re okay?” Gabriel asks, checking over Jesse with professional eyes. When Jesse doesn’t answer he steps closer. He’s less concerned about Jesse’s body than his emotions. “Jes-”

“I’m fine, Reyes.” Jesse says shortly, cutting him off. “Go parent someone else.”

Gabriel watches Jesse with half-lidded eyes in the flickering flames coming from the demolished buildings, watches a drop of blood inch down his jaw and fall to dissolve into the pool of sweat in the hollow of his collarbones. Reaching a hand out, he grips Jesse’s shoulder where his muscles still tremble from adrenaline. He slowly runs his thumb down the column of Jesse’s throat and feels the slowing rhythm of his harsh breaths. “I just hope one day you’ll feel comfortable enough to call me father,” he says quietly, “because it already feels that way.”

A look of horror comes over Jesse’s face. Gabriel knows that he must be thinking about his childhood, god knows what it must have been like. Jesse steps back, Gabriel’s hand falling slowly away. He rubs at his eyes with a frustrated hand, giving Gabriel a tight smile. “You are...somethin’ else, Reyes,” he finally says, before turning on his heel and walking away.

He’s coming around, Gabriel can feel it.

-x-x-x-x-x-

“I’unno...been tryin’ for years and never got anywhere. Has the audacity to  _ look _ like that today.”

Jesse’s voice is slurred, accent thick and syrupy and blunting the few syllables the alcohol hasn’t blurred already.

“I’m well aware. And am tired of you whining about it.” As Gabriel rounds the doorway of the restaurant, he sees Genji sip delicately from a glass, setting it down next to Jesse who is halfway sprawled out across the bar. Genji’s eyebrows raise as he spots Gabriel and he elbows Jesse, who doesn’t seem to notice.

“How can he not get it by now? All these fuckin’ ops, all this high level intellectual shit, and he just doesn’t fuckin...stop pokin’ me, Shimada. He’s just so fuckin’ oblivious.” Jesse keeps muttering, but now it’s into the crook of his arm.

Gabriel makes his way over, stops by where his team is. He nods over at Jesse. “What’s he going on about.”

Genji laughs, a bit hysterically. “Oh, Reyes. Don’t worry about it. He’s fine, just drunk.” The op today had required them all to be in tuxedos and on their best behavior - tedious and frustrating, but Gabriel didn’t realize it was bad enough that Jesse had to drink this heavily afterwards. He shakes his head as he undoes his bowtie, flicking open the first few buttons of his tuxedo shirt. It’s hot in the bar, so he frowns at Genji when he looks Gabriel up and down, snorts a loud laugh though his nose, and takes a large swallow of his drink.

“You really have no idea,” he says, amusement coloring his metallic voice. 

Knowing that Genji won’t elaborate, the tight lipped little bastard, Gabriel sighs and pokes at Jesse. A loud snore is his only response. Gabriel sighs, bends down, arranges a limp arm around his neck and picks Jesse up in a bridal carry. Jesse nestles closer, tucking his head under Gabriel’s chin and wrapping a hand around the side of his open shirt like a small child being taken to bed.

“Reyes,” Genji says. Gabriel turns around, blinking at the flash as Genji takes a picture on his tablet. He snickers again, closing the tablet and waving Gabriel off with a “Don’t worry about it.”

Gabriel shrugs the best he can with the weight in his arms and hauls Jesse upstairs to the set of rooms they’re using. Moira has already commandeered one room, and as Genji’s stuff is in there with her, he supposes he’s sharing with Jesse. 

He sets Jesse down in one of the beds, gets his boots off and turns him on his side so he won’t die if he vomits. Gabriel takes a quick shower, getting rid of the stench of expensive perfume and cologne left on him from all the rich fucks he had to glad hand that night. He doesn’t have the energy to get dressed after, just throws on underwear and calls it a day. He falls asleep to the sound of Jesse’s drunken snores.

“I give up.” 

Gabriel blinks. It’s morning, early morning as far as he can tell, from the beams of sunlight slitting through the window and illuminating Gabriel’s body. Body, because the room is as warm as the bar was last night and Gabriel must have kicked off the sheets in the night so he’s just laying half-naked on top of the bedclothes.

“Huh?” Gabriel mumbles, knuckling the sleep from his eyes. He looks over at Jesse, sitting fully dressed on the bed and staring down at something on his tablet. His face is pale, with a nearly greenish cast to it. Jesse looks Gabriel in the face, glances over where he’s laying on the bed, and unattractive splotches of red appear on his cheeks. 

“I give up. The lord is obviously testin’ me, and I’ve failed. Fuck it.” Jesse looks...unwell.

Gabriel hands him a trash can just before he vomits.

-x-x-x-x-x-

The next day, Gabriel can’t find Jesse.

Normally he’s great about getting his post-op report in, but this time he hadn’t. He knows that Jesse is going through - whatever crisis he’s decided on, but he needs to get this in so they can be assigned their next op.

Jesse hasn’t answered texts, hasn’t answered calls, and neither of those are normal. Finally Gabriel gets up, walks over to where his team’s rooms are.

To his surprise, Jesse’s door opens before he can get there, and Ana steps out. She looks...off. Her normally immaculate hair is mussed, her shirt is buttoned wrong, and there are dark marks peeking out from under her askew headscarf. 

As she walks towards Gabriel, her gait is unsteady.

“Wh-” is all he can get out before she points a finger in his face.

“You wouldn’t fuck him, I’m sick of hearing both of you whine, and someone had to take one for the team,” she says.

“What.” 

“Christ that mouth on him,” she mumbles to herself, and her tottering walk down the hall is distinctly bowlegged.

_ “What?” _

**Author's Note:**

> I am on [twitter](https://twitter.com/thereweregiants) and I am sorry


End file.
